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Glasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson, 1873-1945

"The Miller Of Old Church"


"I flatter myself that I possess the understanding of horses," he
replied. "I've never had a disagreement with Harry, though I've driven
him every day since I've been here."
"All the same I'd keep a steady hand if I were going by that threshing
machine up the road," rejoined Abel who magnanimously refrained from
adding that he had assisted at the purchase of Harry, and that horse had
been fourteen, if a day, when he passed into the clergyman's keeping.
A healthful glow suffused Mr. Mullen's cheeks, while he struggled
valiantly to conceal his annoyance. He was very young, and in spite of
his early elevation to a position of spiritual leadership, he remained
after all merely an ordinary mortal. So he stiffened perceptibly on
the shiny seat of his gig, and gave a sharp pull at the reins, which
wrenched the head of the young roan away from a clump of sassafras.
"It is better for every man to follow his own ideas, don't you think,
Mr. Revercomb?" he replied, advocating in his resentment a principle
which he would have been the first to rap soundly had it been advanced
by one of his parishioners. "I mean, of course, in the matter of
driving.


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